Limerick Poems About Flowers | Flower Limerick Poems

For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go
so I went where the barbers cut hair!
To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.
To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!
Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!
The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.
From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.
I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.
Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no MrBig! Such a pity!
But while working one day without care.
I looked up Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!
No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!
Written by Andrea Dietrich

September lovely September
Immerse us in colorful splendor
The next thirty days
Please thrill and amaze
With beauty we'll always remember
September lovely September
Embrace Mother Nature so tender
She may blush bright red
Turning down flower beds
While summer honorably surrenders
September lovely September
Full moon of harvest you'll render
Though lovers may stare
And dreamers may dare
You'll always be autumn's defender
original poem by Daniel Turner

Searched within the walls of my feeble mind
In brain matter scattered, but could not find
proof that orange is just humdrum,
To this conclusion I have come -
if orange is ordinary ~ I'm blind.
Brighter than most, it stands out in a crowd.
Bold enough not to be bullied or cowed.
Tones of setting sun refined.
Shade of ripe cantaloupe rind.
Don't accuse it of being brash or loud.
Lilies and tulips massed in flower bed,
More lovely than roses of crimson red.
Tangerine citrus and its zest,
fruit that many consider best,
Breakfast juice, orange marmalade on bread.
Not ordinary is orange to me.
If you think so look again and you'll see
Orange vest could save your life -
Fields of yams and pumpkins rife -
Coral breasted robins who fly so free.
:::............:::.............:::.............:::
3/4/16 Color Contest: Orange
Sponsor: Silent One

Poetry
Aged eighty Joyce started to write
Her poems my senses ignite
Imagery so divine
I just wish it was mine
Great poetry brings such delight
Making Fudge
Joyce really loves making fresh fudge
I wonder if I give Joyce a nudge
She will send to me
Her fudge recipe
From my kitchen I would not budge!
Tulip Parade
Without Joyce being sat in her seat
The parade would not be complete
Gardens Joyce does promote
On the flower club float
Her zest for life cannot be beat!
Gardening club
Joyce travels to state garden shows
Her knowledge of plants overflows
It would be a great idea
In her centenary year
To honour her name with a rose
100th Birthday
All soupers we must now rejoice
And shout out with united voice
That we just want to say
Have happy Birthday
To a fabulous poet named Joyce
Happy 100th Birthday Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire
4/18/18

This is the story of Buffalo Bill
An ordinary buffalo was he - until
A beautiful flower he saw on a hill
Instead of grazing
He just stood gazing
With joy the flower did him fill
Soon left behind was Buffalo Bill
The herd thinking he might be ill
Not knowing why he stood so still
The flower - swaying
To Bill was saying
Stay here forever Do say you will
Everyone heard about Buffalo Bill
First from Jack and then from Jill
They all went running up the hill
To see this flower
That had such power
To discover an ordinary daffodil

A two headed dragon one day.
Came to Scotland a person to slay.
A guy in a kilt.
You could tell didn't wilt
Was so frisky and wanted to play.
The dragon took one look at him.
But the guy in the kilt was so slim.
The wind blew a gust.
His kilt did adjust.
Could see all, if your eyes were not dim!
The wind blew him this way and that.
The dragon got hold of his hat.
"I'll make you my meal
If you'll just be still."
"Oh no you won't I'm far too fat!"
Laughing with glee in his eye.
His privates the dragon did spy.
"Pull down your kilt
Your flower will wilt.
For I think you'll make a good pie!"
The man in the kilt laughed with glee.
"You'll not eat me and I will go free.
For I have this hose
which now has arose,
and will kill you, there's no need to plea!"
The hose that arose now was froze.
And he used it to beat his oppose.
The dragon now dead
was beat with a head.
His kilt was in place I suppose.
The moral of this Scotish hymn.
Take pictures and keep them on film.
For proof of your story
no dragons get glory.
A sacrifice yes, not a whim!
*For "Indulge Me Scotish Style" contest

rushing inference, imminent insight
suddenly its clear, a gut feeling
swooning, reeling,
cross-connected hemi-sphere
syncopated, reverberated, totally aware
open bi-ways, ahh blue-sky days, making up my mind
synapses shiver, axons quiver, dendrites deliver
'lectrik-neurons fire suddenly in time
aha! aha! oh gawd I see, I ran around 'n cried
a fool I've been, all along its there, right in front of me
with a grin 'n a nod 'n twinkly-looking 'round
raised my arms 'n slapped my thighs
'n made a ruckus sound --
donned my hat 'n set it skewed
upon my big bright head
set off to town in an uplifted mood
while whistling a sweet sound
forgot what I had found
#
there's a hole in my head
where the wounds of reason seep
all words are dead inside my head
what's left is dark 'n deep
@
I'll always live
and always die
on the event horizon
of my mind's eye
where the flash
of neuronal fires
flower into
sudden epiphany --

From my window, I saw spring flowers
Kissed by morning's radiance
You were my cloud of joy
Touching me with your charm
You awakened me from dream to thee
Love was in the air when I looked up
A moment of clarity sparkled
Love's rebirth arrived with you, my love
You illuminated the chambers of my heart
You, like kaleidoscopic pastels
Of spring flowers graced my space
In visions, with your loveliness, capturing me
I was in transit
Yet, sifting through pages of time
Again you emerged; as I unearth my symbol of love
Letters and numbers were blessings in disguise
A printed flower called Jacqueline, graced sheets of white
Your voice became a sweet soothing sound to my soul
I sat in awe, poised with pen on sheets of white
There you were, as pure as precious luck
Or is it, we should stay in touch?
*

Buried In A Tomb
Learned that later flower would bloom
Should play it safe and give more room
To the media who were in big masses
Had become a bunch of horse's asses
Buried my worries with me in a tomb.
Ho Ho Jim Horn
Was not quite sure what he meant
There are those who want to be triumphant
Have their big egos on display
Make others carry their tray
It must be an arrogant elephant.
Determined I was deeply in doubt
When Hillary lost started to pout
Burned out we ended up being
Stomach was upset and started peeing
After I had a hot dog with sauerkraut.
Are often led by love and devotion
That at times cause much commotion
Something about it seemed odd
And when I had prayed to God
Said should start using my love potion.
(Not sure if it was number nine or not.)
You can surely tell they are trans genders
By color of pants with long suspenders
Drank whole bottle straight of gin
And promised when they did it again
Mixed in blender playing "Love Me Tender."
We were not left with a lot of room
So invariably we found a vacuum
Nothing was left after what we did
Then found a closet and there hid
Comey surely had sealed Hillary's doom.
Did you know that one of the Trumpeteers
also had been a MouseketeerNever liked
big cats but rats with small hands ready
to meet all of his demands
Jim Horn

Hiding Behind A Hibiscus
Had been hiding behind a hibiscus
When we planned on being promiscuous
Can your imagine her big breasts
Looked just like two bird nests;
Did discover flower was deciduous.
Jim Horn

Dedicated To Jack Ellison
What God did was make Jack admit,
That his life to Him he must commit;
As it endures,
Challenge is yours;
Writing many poems while you sit.
While Christ back to heaven was rising,
It was then that we had been realizing,
God, His Son raised,
Who we have praised;
Each day did have a delightful horizon.
There was someone who had the name,
Of Jesus who had received all the blame;
More and more;
Clothes He tore;
We are so thankful that for us He came.
In every breath we have been taking,
Day is awaking and dawn breaking;
We are nourished,
While God flourished;
More great bread my wife is baking.
There are many things I must accept,
And by our later years crept and crept;
Open is door,
Forevermore;
Then soon in God's hands will have slept.
Many marvelous things my God has done;
He graciously gave to us His precious son;
Always encourage;
Never discourage,
And our faith in them we will rest upon,
Single faithful flower God's Son represented;
God gave Him to us after He had consented;
Son did select,
Us to protect;
From us sinning again, God has prevented.
What most about God I always do admire;
All of His efforts to save me will transpire;
Plants each seed,
Each of us need;
Meets what we require and not only desire.